iTeach Sam How to Dance
by MustBeDreaming13
Summary: Sam can't dance. Freddie tells her so. She says if he thinks he's so good that he should teach her. What has he gotten himself into? Seddie perhaps? Of course. Summary's bad, but story should be good. First up. Second should be up tomorrow.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly. If I did I wouldn't be writing fanfics about it.**

**A/N: I just thought of this. Wouldn't it be interesting if Freddie had to teach Sam how to dance? Eventual Seddie, of course. This is a prologue. First chapter should be up tomorrow. Read and review. Tell me if you think this is a good idea.**

Sam Puckett dancing. Who knew? But there it was in front of him, Freddie Benson. He gazed at her, stifling a laugh. Sam Puckett was in fact dancing, but she wasn't doing very well. Not that it's a surprise. "Nolita Fairytale" by Vanessa Carlton was playing in the background. Sam had her eyes closed, trying to get in tune with the music. She leaped, she fell. She got up, she tried again. She twirled, her ankles twisted, sending her collapsing to the ground. She sat on the floor, blonde curls hanging over her face muffling the foul words coming from her mouth. Freddie chuckled at the infuriated blonde.

"You think this is funny, Benson?" she asked, her blue eyes glazed with frustration.

"Yeah. I mean, how do I put this nicely…" he paused, tapping his chin, "you can't dance."

"Oh yeah?! You think you can do better?" she challenged, heaving herself off the floor.

"Yes, actually I do," he said confident, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Then since you're so sure, why don't you teach me?"

"What?!" he sputtered in disbelief.

"Are your ears filled with dust or something? I said teach me how to dance."

"You're not serious."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

He studied her face and couldn't read any signs to torture him in any way though he knew it was going to be just to get Sam Puckett to take orders for once.

"Fine. Meet me at my apartment at four o'clock," he muttered, wondering what he had gotten himself in to.

She smiled, satisfied and walked out of the iCarly studio, calling over her shoulder, "Don't expect me to be on time, Fredison."

Freddie let out an extended sigh, looking towards the ceiling, asking himself, "What have I gotten myself in to?"


	2. Learn to Dance, Learn to Say No

Freddie sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the digital clock on top of the TV. It glowed 4:53. Sam was late. Not that that was a surprise. He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering where the fiery blonde was. He was also wondering why he agreed to teach her how to dance. Before he could think any farther there was a loud bang that came from the front door. He turned to see a blur of blonde fly past him and into the kitchen. How did she get in here, he wondered. Freddie raced to the door and saw that it was wide open. He checked the lock. It had been broken off by the one and only Sam Puckett. He stomped into the kitchen, ready to give her a piece of his mind.

"That's illegal," he said angrily, pointing at the damage.

"Oh, shut up, dork. You'll get over it. Now where's the ham in this fridge?" she wondered aloud, her head deep in the cold abyss.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for ham, what do you think I'm doing?"

"You won't find it in there."

She emerged from the fridge, knitting her eyebrows into a knot. "Why not?" But before he could answer she smirked, raising her eyebrows. "Oh, I forgot. You're psycho mom only let's you eat low-fat cucumber cups."

"That's not true! She also lets me eat tofu and fat-free sugar-free lemon squares."

"Wow that is so sad. What kind of world do you live in with no meat around?"

"At least I don't eat it like a starving lion," he said under his breath.

"What did you say, Benson?"

"I said at least I can eat onions," Freddie said, clearing his throat.

"You are such a dork," Sam stated with the roll of her eyes.

Freddie let out another sigh, knowing it wasn't going to be the last. "Can we just get started? I got everything set up in my room."

"Not until you get mama some meat."

"But we don't have any!"

"Then go buy some for me," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

"No!"

"Do you really want to say that? Because I can give you a wedgie that you will never forget," Sam said, smiling mischievously.

He finally caved, knowing that he would have to buy new underwear if he didn't. Freddie walked down to the convenient store with Sam twirling by his side. He had to grab her arm at one point to pull her away from an on-coming car. He shook his head, chuckling to himself. Sam could be so…beautiful, he thought. Wait, whoa, what?! Did I say beautiful and Sam in the same sentence?! He wondered worriedly. He shook away the silly thoughts, convincing himself that he was hallucinating. I mean, it was May. The sun could do a lot of things to you. The sun was shining down on Sam who continued to twirl and leap and just do a bunch of random movements.

"Why do you even want to lean how to dance, anyway?" he asked her.

"Because the guy I like likes girls who dance," she replied, spinning on her toes and landing rather un-gracefully.

"Oh, really, and who is this guy?"

"Why do you even care, Fredward?" she asked, stopping to flash him a quizzical look.

"I don't."

"Then why did you ask, dork?"

"I asked because…oh, never mind! We're here," Freddie said, pointing up at the store's sign.

"Good because mama was getting hungry," she said, licking her lips and rubbing her tummy. Sam raced to the butcher section, demanding a pound of ham.

Once Freddie caught up with her she ordered, "Give me some cash."

"What?"

"Give me some cash, dorkwad. You know, the green stuff you buy other stuff with."

"I know what it is, but I'm not giving you any," he said, placing his hand by his pocket just in case she might grab it herself.

"Come on, Frederly! Mama's blood sugar is low and if you don't I'll tell everyone that you mom still gives you those weekly body inspections."

"Wait…how do you know that?!"

"I have my ways, Benson, I have my ways. Now give me some money!" Sam whined impatiently, her blonde curls bouncing up and down, and her stomach rumbling.

"Fine," he muttered, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash.

"Finally!" she screamed joyfully to the heavens. She then snatched it from his hand and laid it on the counter, getting her beloved pound of ham in return.

They made their way back to the Bushwell Plaza, Freddie dragging his feet behind him, still wondering why he had agreed into spending his free hours with the girl who tortures him on a daily basis and Sam twirling happily by his side, pieces of ham hanging from her mouth.

Freddie shoved his key into the doorknob and pushed the door open, muttering to himself, "Why, Freddie, why did you get yourself into this?"

"I'm pretty sure there are therapists out there for people who talk to themselves, dork, you know, if you need one," Sam stated casually, flopping herself over the arm of the couch, polishing off the last piece of ham.

"I'm also pretty sure there are therapists out there for blonde demons who have an un-controllable desire to eat food," he whispered to himself.

"What's that, Fredweird?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Come on, let's get started."

"Okay, but if you touch me in any inappropriate way, I will tell someone that you sexually assaulted me," Sam said, heaving herself off the couch.

"I wouldn't even think of it," he replied quickly, but still blushed at the thought.

"So, how do you know how to dance anyway? Oh wait, let me guess. Your mommy signed you up for a mother-son dancing class," Sam said wisely, smirking, the corners of her mouth tickling with humor.

"That is…true," Freddie said dejectedly.

Sam laughed at Freddie's expense. He ignored her, changing the subject.

"Do you have leotard with you?"

"No. Why would I? It's me, Benson, not some fruit cup ballerina. But I do have some comfortable clothes on," she said, slipping her jacket over her head, revealing a black cami. She pulled off her knee-length plaid shorts which showed even shorter sport shorts.

Freddie couldn't help but stare dumbly at his supposed frenemy. She looked kind of…sexy. He knew he shouldn't think this way about a girl, and especially not Sam Puckett, but he couldn't help it. Freddie continued to stare until Sam cut off his trance.

"Don't get any ideas, dork," she said, smacking him up-side the head.

He shook his head hard, shaking off the pain and some disturbing thoughts. He had cleared pretty much everything out of his room except for a chair and a mirror that leaned against the middle of the wall.

Freddie tried to look at her without actually _looking _at her and asked, "Do you have any ballet slippers with you?"

"No, I can't afford those. All I have is my feet and some socks," Sam said, pointing down at her white covered feet.

Freddie scratched his head, trying to contain himself. "Take off the socks so you don't slip on the wood floor."

She obliged, slipping them off and then throwing them on the chair in the corner. He made a note to self to burn it later.

"Okay, now, straighten your shoulders," he said, moving them back with his own hands. "And look straight forward." He lifted her chin with his own finger.

"Remember, dork, no inappropriate touching even though I know you want to," she teased, but he still blushed.

"I was just helping," he mumbled. "Okay, now, get in tune with the music," Freddie said, turning on the stereo, letting classical music seep through the speakers.

"How can I get in tune with the music when all it does is make me want to go to sleep?"

"That's what they listen to in the ballet."

"Then the ballet has a horrible taste in music." And then she just left the room. Where was she going, Freddie wondered. He went into the living room where he saw Sam rummaging in her back pack, searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" he asked as he watched her eyebrows furrow and tongue stick out at the sides in slight frustration.

"This," she stated, raising her hand which held a Vanessa Carlton CD.

"What's with you and Vanessa Carlton?"

"I like her because she can kick butt by playing the piano," Sam said, making her way back to his room and popping the CD in his stereo. He followed her, "Ordinary Day" filling the poor teenage boy's ears. He groaned. This week was going to be torture.

"Oh, shut up, and just teach me how to dance," Sam demanded, standing in the middle of the room, her beauty grabbing his attention. It's not like there was much in the room to grab his attention anyway, he thought, trying to convince himself.

He obeyed and spent the next two hours teaching Sam Puckett how to dance. At one point Freddie just couldn't take it anymore.

"Why can't you just listen to me? You are so obstinate!" he yelled, the pulse in his neck becoming visible.

"You don't have to scream at me in words I don't even know, Benson!"

"Obstinate means stubborn which you have oodles of!"

"Awesome. So I have oodles of self control _and _stubbornness? I must be pretty cool," she said with a grin.

"No, you are not because no one likes a stubborn person!"

"Oh yeah?!"

"Yeah!"

"Fine then I'll just leave!"

"Good!"

Sam marched to the door, but before leaving she turn to scream, "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?!"

"Heck yeah!" Freddie screamed back.

She gave a firm nod, her curls flying everywhere, and then she slammed the door behind her.

He gave a firm nod back to the closed door and stomped angrily to his room, slamming his door as well. Freddie sat down on the chair, but then jumped up, realizing he had just sat on Sam's infested socks. He wrinkled his nose and then something clicked in his head which made him jerk his head toward the door.

"Wait, what?!" he screamed at his closed door.

**A/N: I hope you guys liked that! It took me a little while, but I think I did fairly well. So, if you think so too, leave a review! Thanks!**


	3. Author's Note

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I know that you guys want more, but I'm kind of stuck. I started the second chapter, but it's sort of a slow process. So, I'm taking a slight break from this story…just for like a couple weeks….but that's it. It should be up in the next couple weeks…thanks for all who are reading!**

**Your ever so loving Seddie fan,**

**Kppm13mylife**


	4. Ballet Slippers and Tic Baths to Cure

Whatever had possessed him to do it he had no idea. He couldn't even believe it himself as the man behind the counter placed a black square box in his hands. Freddie opened it which revealed the most beautiful ballet slippers he had ever laid eyes on. They were brand new and yellow which he figured she would like. It was better than pink anyway. Freddie still wondered why he had done something so nice for a girl who could be so cruel to him. He closed up the box and checked his watch which read 3:47. He decided he still had some time to spare considering Sam was usually late so he stuffed the box in a bag and slowly made his way to the Sam's house, pondering his feelings.

Sam tortured him constantly, yet he was having these strange yet exciting feelings for her. He wanted to kiss her like he hadn't seen her in years. He wanted to hold her and never let go. He wanted her to be only his.

But…he also wanted to punch a hole through the wall when she was being stubborn. He wanted to scream whenever she was being a smart-aleck. He wanted her to just go away and never come back. It was all too confusing for Freddie.

He finally arrived at the Puckett's house, taking in the shattered windows and fading paint on the sides of the house. Freddie stared at the sad, little house for what seemed like an eternity, each minute making him more depressed than the last. It was then that he knew why he had bought the ballet slippers that lay in his hands. It didn't seem like anyone was home so he carefully placed the box on the doorstep, stepping away slowly, taking one last look at the pitiful home. Freddie walked away, his heart feeling a little lighter.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Freddie!" Sam called, bursting through the door.

She _never_ called him by his real name. Freddie peaked over the book he was reading to see a livid Sam standing in his door way.

"What's up?" he asked sheepishly.

"Don't you 'what up' me, I know it was you," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"What did I do?"

"Oh, don't act like a total retard! You know exactly what you did," Sam yelled so loud her throat hurt. She threw the black box at Freddie's head, the beautiful ballet slippers falling to the floor. He saved them, gathering them in his arms, but Sam quickly snatched them back.

"Why did you buy me these?!" she asked angrily, shaking the dancing shoes in his face.

"Because, I thought, well, that you might like to dance in them instead of dancing in your bare feet," he replied, shrinking back a little.

"Well, I would, but I would like to buy my own, okay?! I don't need some guy, much less a dork, buying me shoes!" Then she dropped them to the ground, stomping on them with her feet, making her point.

"Do you know how much those cost?!" he asked in horror as he watched her destroy the once magical slippers.

"Yes, in fact, I do, which is why you shouldn't have bought them for me in the first place! I can buy my own! I am not some poor misfit!"

"Really? Then why do you always ask me for money?! Oh, wait, that's right, because you can't afford anything!" Freddie clasped his mouth shut, regretting the words once they flew out of his mouth.

"That's not true!" Sam assured him and herself, but deep down she knew it was the utter truth. She shook her head, frustrated, hot tears traveling down her face. Whether they were upset or hurt tears neither Freddie nor Sam could tell. She wiped at them quickly, but they kept coming.

"Are, are you alright Sam?" Freddie asked hesitantly, standing up, inching his body toward her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just, just never buy me anything ever again and we'll both be happy, 'kay?" They both knew that statement wasn't true, but they never said so aloud.

"I'll buy anything for you, but only if you ask me," he whispered, rubbing her back, hoping she would calm down. "Okay?"

"Whatever, dork," she said rather bitterly, but she couldn't hide the goofy grin spreading across her face. "Don't touch me!" Sam scooted away from him as if he had cooties. Freddie rolled his eyes, but ignored her reaction.

"Can you at least try on the ballet slippers?"

"Only if you give me some ham."

"Fine," he said, acting aggravated. He brought his hand to his mouth, trying to cover the smile creeping up his face. "Why do you like ham so much anyway?" Freddie asked, sticking his head into the fridge and emerging with a piece of ham. He slid it across the counter to Sam who accepted it with pleasure.

"Do you have to ask?! It's, like, devilly delicious!" she said, ripping the meat with her incisors.

"Devilly delicious? I've never heard that expression before," he replied wryly.

"Yeah, well, I made it up. It's a good expression, isn't it? I mean, ham is like the best thing in the world," Sam said, admiring the glorious meat she held.

"Oh, come on. Ham is not the best thing in the world."

"How dare you say that to mama and her ham," she said, shielding her ham from the crazy man. Freddie just rolled his eyes. She could just be so…Sam.

"Okay, so now are you ready to try and put on the ballet slippers?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Freddork."

She got up and walked to his room, leaving him there with his mouth hung agape. Since when did she care what made him happy? She was the one always trying to destroy his life. He shook off all thoughts and followed her into the ten-by-foot "dance studio."

"Do you have to play Vanessa Carlton though?"

"Yes."

"But it's so irritating!"

"Well, good, then Vanessa will be doing my job for me," Sam answered with a smug smile. She popped the her CD in, Vanessa's beautiful yet irritating (to Freddie) filling the room.

Freddie rolled his eyes toward the ceiling once again. He had a feeling this practice was going to be longer than the last one. Sam sat down on the floor, tugging on the slippers which were objecting to her feet. She pushed, she huffed, she heaved, she cried. It was as if she was giving birth to a new born child. Sam finally got the stubborn shoes on her feet, her hair hanging over her face. She blew a curl away, her face beet red, looking up at Freddie with an annoyed look. He just gazed back down at her with an amused one plastered on his face.

"Are you enjoying this, Benson?"

"Yes, in fact, I am."

"Well, wipe of that amused look of yours and help me up," she said, lifting her arm. He grabbed hold of her hand and heaved her weight off the floor. Sam started tipping back, but he caught her before she met face to face with the ground.

"These things are hell of a lot hard to stand on," she muttered, exasperated.

"Here take my hand," Freddie offered.

"I don't want to hold your hand," Sam retorted, disgusted.

"It will help you, Sam. Now don't be complicated."

"Since when have I ever been complicated?" she inquired, trying her best to put her hands on her hips, but failing miserably by tilting backwards. Freddie caught her in the nick of time, his hand behind her back, just above the hardwood.

"Plenty," he whispered, his breath tickling her cheeks.

It took her a while to respond, but she finally answered with, "Could you just get me back up to solid ground?"

He brought her back up, a bit embarrassed, blushing a light pink. Would it be a surprise to you if Freddie was thinking of kissing her at that moment? But like always, Sam had to ruin a perfect opportunity for him.

"Okay, now stand on your toes."

Sam attempted to do so, but instead ended up falling into Freddie. He gasped and he was sure she muttered something to herself about being a klutz. But he liked the feeling of her body against his. Freddie shook off all feelings and helped her up.

"Try again."

She did, but then she faltered into him, their legs getting caught up with each other, sending Sam falling backwards and Freddie following face forward, screaming like a girl. They landed with a thud, Sam groaning from under him. He opened his eyes to reveal her lips. Right there. In front of him. He gulped. Why was it that this was happening to him? Was it fate? He wasn't sure. Sam tried to move her legs, but couldn't because they were so entangled with the one and only dork.

"Fredwina, get off me," she managed to choke out despite the fact that he was crushing her lungs.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" she asked, raising her right eyebrow.

"Don't you like me on top of you?" he asked, becoming bold.

"Of course not! I mean, you're crushing my lungs. I can barely breathe!"

Sam squirmed and squirmed, but he wouldn't budge. He looked into her eyes with the most serious look she had ever seen. She stopped moving. All that could be heard was her heavy yet shaky breathing. It scared her the way he was staring at her, just studying her features. But what frightened her most was the fact that she wanted to kiss him. Really bad. But she didn't have to worry any longer because Freddie already knew what to do. He started closing the short distance between them, his lips inches away from hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, ready for whatever was about to happen, frightening or not.

"Fredward Benson, what are you doing?!"

The two adolescents shot their heads toward the door where a very troubled Mrs. Benson stood. Freddie quickly and easily emerged from the floor, running his fingers through his hair. For a spilt second Sam smirked at him, thinking of how he "couldn't" do that before. She stood up as well, but not as fast as Freddie had did, smoothing out her clothes with her hands. She started stumbling into Freddie's side due to the horrid ballet slippers.

"Mom, it's not what you think," he tried to assure his frantic mother. But by Sam leaning into him so much it was hard to convince.

"I think it's exactly what I think, Freddie! Tell Samantha to leave before I explode," Mrs. Benson said through clenched teeth.

But Sam was way ahead of Freddie and his mother, tugging off the dancing shoes and throwing them into her bag. She scurried out of his room, but couldn't help hearing the conversation going on as she headed out the front door.

"Fredward Benson, we our giving you a tic bath!"

"But why?!"

"Because I think it will lessen your sexual desires!"

And with that Sam was out in the hallway, the cold cement meeting with her bare feet, and her laughter meeting with the air around her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Ha, okay, so I know I said in my author's note that I would be putting up the second chapter in two weeks. Well, I got over my slight writer's block!!! YAY! I hope you guys like it....I didn't really like the beginning and middle, but I liked the end, for my taste anyway. Read and review please!!!**


	5. Love and Rewards with Ham

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, especially Rae Girl's…it just made my day. This chapter's going to be in Freddie's POV.**

I stared upward, staring into the darkness. I was thinking about what happened earlier that day. I, Freddie Benson, and the girl who hurts me physically and verbally, Sam Puckett, almost kissed. Can you believe it? I don't know if I can. All the feelings I've been having the past couple days have been wild and crazy. I mean, to Sam I'm just an average dork and to me, well, she's just an average bully. We're frenemies, always have been, always will…or maybe not.

I turned to my side, pushing away the thought.

_Do I want to kiss her? _I ask my other self.

_No, I mean, how can you? She's your bully, your friend, your tormentor. You don't really want to kiss THAT, do you?_

_Well, DID I want to kiss her? _I ask them again.

_You were on the floor, lying on a girl. Any boy who's as lonely as you would want to get some smooch'n._

_Yeah…wait…HEY!!! _I scream inwardly at my other self.

_You know it's true…_

_I wouldn't say…ok, it's true._

I can feel my other self smirking.

_Well, what about me thinking she's beautiful?_

_That doesn't mean you like her…and besides, you'd have to be gay not to see that she's smok'n hot._

_True._

But then I think of something else…

_I did feel something when we had our first kiss. It was wonderful, magical, the best thing I had ever felt. And afterwards, I didn't have all those strong feelings for Carly as much any more. What if I had felt something when I kissed her the second time?_

_What if you did?_

_Yeah, that's why I'm asking you._

_Well, I don't have ALL the answers! I'm just your other self. If you don't have all the answers, how am I going to?_

_You're no help at all._

_Then why don't you get rid of me?!_

_I can't, I'm stuck with you._

_Oh, yeah…_

_So what do you think?_

_I think you should take another tic bath._

_No frigging way!!! _

After that statement, I completely turned off my other self. They were no help anyway. I rolled over and over, trying to get to sleep. It was no use. She was taking over my mind, that blonde demon. I got up and switched on my PearPod which was hooked up to the Pear Home. It started playing "My Life Would Suck Without You" by Kelly Clarkson. Why do I even have this song, I wondered. But I listened closely, sucking in the words through my ear and into my brain. It sounded like what my life would be without Sam. I covered my ears with my pillow, trudged over to the Pear Home, and pressed Skip. It started playing "Better Together" by Jack Johnson. (A/N: Great song. I suggest you should look it up if you haven't heard it.) Strangely enough, the song seemed right for our relationship. Even between the constant fights and the pain in my arm after she twists it out of its socket it's somehow better when we're together. Like whenever we have those rare moments of getting along and when she'll lay her head down on my shoulder while all three of us are watching a movie in the dark. Or when I look at her, her face lit up while she's eating ham. Then there's the times when she'll come to my house when Carly's not home and crash on the couch, demanding a bucket of fried chicken. At least she doesn't find me totally repulsive. It's a wonder when she declares she can't stand me yet she spends a majority of her time either throwing insults at me or putting me in a head lock. Oddly, I enjoy those moments; the good and bad. She brings out a different side in me and maybe, just maybe, I bring out a different side in her too.

I laid down in my bed, closing my eyes shut tight, a picture of Sam eating meat playing in my head. I fell asleep soon after, a smile playing on my lips.

I was in dreamland when I felt a tugging at my leg. I ignored it, content with where my dream was going. But then I felt myself being flung to the ground, being flipped onto my stomach, hitting my head on my bed post in the process. I groaned, opening my eyes wearily, looking around into complete darkness. I laid my head down on the cold hardwood, defeated, just wanting to go back to my wonderful dream of Sam Puckett.

"You should really keep your dreams to yourself, Benson,"

"Huh?" I asked the stranger. For all I know, I could still be dreaming.

"You were talking in your sleep. I didn't know you were so obsessed about me," the voice said in a smug tone.

"What are you doing here, Sam?" I was fully awake now. It's a good thing it was pitch black or else she could see me blushing like hell.

"Turn on the light. I have something to show you."

I switched on my lamp obediently and turned my head to see Sam with her eyes covered over her face.

"Are we playing some stupid game of hide and seek or something?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Um, no, we're playing 'Shield Our Eyes from Almost Naked Dork.'"

I looked down at my apparel which was nothing but boxers. My eyes grew wide in horror. I scrambled off the floor and picked up the shirt laying by my bed and threw it over my head. Then I grabbed a pair of jeans hanging over my chair and pulled them on quickly, hoping Sam hadn't seen too much.

"It's okay, you can un-cover your eyes now," I assured her.

She peaked through a crack in her fingers to make sure and threw her hands down, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Now really, what do you want, Sam, because if my mother finds me in here with you I'll be dead."

"Oh, like what? Giving you another tic bath?" she said snidely.

"Which is more painful than you think. It tingles the outside of your skin and the worst part is when it gets up…"

"Ew, gross, okay, I get the idea!"

I smirked at her wrinkled nose and totally disgusted face. Well, that's what she gets for bringing up another horrid..._shudder_…tic bath.

"I came here to show you this." Sam said, pointing down. My eyes followed her fingers and realized that she was standing on her ballet slippers.

"How did you…why did you…when did you do this?" I stuttered in disbelief.

"I stayed up all night, but it was worth it," she said, smiling proudly down at her feet, pride shining in her blue eyes.

"You stayed up all night to do that? What time is it anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know, somewhere around three o'clock in the morning," Sam replied casually.

"Three in the morning?! Are you crazy?!" I would have screamed this if it weren't for my mother in the next room.

"Maybe so, but aren't you proud of me?" she asked, standing on her tip-toes like she was a five year old who had washed their hands properly and now wanted to be rewarded with a cookie. Or in her case, ham.

I shook my head in amusement. This girl, standing in front of me, was not like other girls. She beat up kids, acted like a lady when she wanted to (which was almost never), ate ham like there was no tomorrow, and stayed up until almost dawn to accomplish something as silly as standing on a pair of dancing shoes. I realized, at that moment, that I loved Sam Puckett. She was completely amazing and beautiful to me.

"Yes, I am. Would you like some ham now?" I asked, knowing the answer would be yes.

"Did you even have to ask?!" She silently skipped into the kitchen in sheer delight. I followed suit, non-skipping of course, and stuck my hand into the refrigerator, easily finding Sam's beloved meat. I handed it to her, Sam snatching it from my hand, ripping into it with her teeth. A wide, goofy grin was plastered on her face and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny, Frediffer?" she asked, curiously, ham spewing from her mouth in the process.

I wiped my chin where the ham had landed on me. "You."

"Watch it, Fredweird, or I'll give you a mouth full of fist," Sam warned.

"Not funny in a bad way," I said, reaching for a piece of ham, but Sam slapping it. I rubbed my now red knuckles finishing my sentence with, "but funny in a good way."

She looked out into the distance with her ocean blue eyes, chewing on her meat thoughtfully. "I guess I can deal with that," she whispered back, turning her head to face me, giving me an un-forgettable smile. I studied her. Her hair, the way it flowed down her back. Her lips, the way it kept her wonderful smile yet still enjoyed the flavors of the juicy ham. Her eyes, the way they wandered when she was thinking or the way they shined bright when she was happy.

"What are you staring at?" Sam asked, interrupting my trance.

"Nothing," I replied, blinking back my thoughts and feelings.

"Whatever you say, dorkwad," she replied, sucking on her last piece of meat.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said slowly, trying to hide my disappointment. She always leaves when there's no meat left.

"Nah, I think I'm going to crash here. I'm too lazy to walk all the way back home. You don't mind, do you Fredison? Because I wouldn't care if you did, anyway." And with that she got up, stretched, and walked to my room where she collapsed on my bed. I stood in the door way, wondering where I was going to sleep.

"You can sleep here too, dork, there's enough room," she told me as if she read my thoughts. Still, her limbs were still hanging off the side of my bed.

"You're asking me to sleep with you?"

She made a gagging noise, scrunching up her nose like a prune. "You don't have to make it sound like that."

I rolled my eyes and crawled in next to her where she so graciously left me the _edge _of the bed. I turned off the bed light and closed my eyes, hoping to go back to my dream. I felt something on my chest so I reached out to touch it. I felt hair, my fingers entangling with it. Sam's head was on my chest, I realized. I laid paralyzed at the thought. A thousand thought flew through my head. Was she asleep? Did she not know she was laying on me? If she didn't know, would she punch me in the morning, thinking _I _put her head there?

But my mind stopped when an arm reached around and grabbed my waist, snuggling deeper. My skin tingled just like it did when I was getting a tic bath…but this was a good tingling.

"Don't get any ideas, dork," Sam said into my shirt.

I smiled to myself, and replied, "No problem." But when she started breathing heavily, giving me the cue that she was asleep, I couldn't help but stroke the beautiful blonde locks sprawled across my chest.

**A/N: Hey, I hope you guys liked the Seddieness in this chapter!!! I got a lot coming in the next chapter so stay tuned! (Sounds like your watching some cheesy movie with that saying, huh?)**


	6. Slow Dancing with a Side of Pain

**_Sam's POV_**

The sun shined through the curtains, waking me with its welcoming light. I buried my head into Freddie's shirt, ignoring the disturbance, me not being so welcoming. That's when it occurred to me…Freddie's shirt?! I scrambled away from his sleeping form, trying to remember how I had gotten here. I rubbed my head, remembering something about eating ham. That's when my ballet slippers, which were strewn on the floor, caught my eye. Oh, yeah, I came to show Frederly that I could stand on the damn things, I remembered. I stretched, my arms reaching high above me, hugging the air. I yawned loudly which stirred the human being trying to sleep peacefully next to me. I smirked at the lump and nudged his leg with my foot. He just let out a sigh and turned over on his side. I rolled my eyes and crawled out of bed, almost tumbling over the human stone. I grumbled to Freddie and myself, more to him than me, and wandered over to his PearPod. I took it out of the Pear Home and plugged in his earphones which were lying on a desk near by. I pressed Play, hoping that the dork had some good music and not the Telly Tubbies Hit Parade. I listened to the words carefully. Huh, I thought, this isn't too bad.

_There's no combination of words  
I could put on the back of a postcard  
No song that I could sing  
But I can try for your heart,  
our dreams, and they are made out of real things  
like a shoebox of photographs  
with sepia-toned loving  
Love is the answer  
at least for most of the questions in my heart, like  
Why are we here? And where do we go?  
And how come it's so hard?  
It's not always easy and  
sometimes life can be deceiving  
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together_

_Mmmm, It's always better when we're together  
Yeah we'll look at the stars and we're together  
Well, it's always better when we're together  
Yeah it's always better when we're together_

So, the dork isn't such a dork after all. Strangely, this song kind of sounded like Freddie and I. I ignored the disturbing thought, considering this song was about love. Freddie and I didn't love each other, whatsoever. I mean, it just wasn't right for the world. We were supposed to be frenemies. I, his bully, him, well, my victim, my dork. Wait…did I say, _my _dork?! I assure you I did not! I listened to the song harder, in hopes that the music would wash away my thoughts.

_And all of these moments  
just might find their way into my dreams tonight,  
But I know that they'll be gone  
when the morning light sings  
and brings new things  
for tomorrow night you see  
that they'll be gone too,  
too many things I have to do  
But if all of these dreams might find their way  
into my day to day scene  
I'd be under the impression  
i was somewhere in between  
With only two,  
Just me and you,  
Not so many things we got to do  
or places we got to be  
We'll sit beneath the mango tree, now…_

I wondered…

"Dork, wake up! I have an important question!" I screamed in his ear, jumping up and down on him like a child.

He groaned in response. I smacked his head, not accepting that as an answer.

"Ow, Sam, what do you want?!" he asked, annoyed, his brown eyes squinting at me. God, I loved his eyes…but that's not what I was going to talk to him about.

"Why is it beneath the mango tree?" I questioned, finally settling myself down to give him a questioning look.

"Huh?" he stated drowsily, giving me a very perplexed look back.

"Why does he say 'beneath the mango tree' in "Better Together" and not 'beneath the apple tree' or 'beneath the grapefruit tree'?"

Freddie blinked a few times and then looked at me as if I were crazy. Of course, we covered that fact the night before so I don't know why he has to look at me like that.

"I don't know," was his final answer.

"Or," I said, clicking my fingers, ignoring his dumb answer, "why not 'beneath the _ham _tree?" I licked my lips hungrily, my eyes twinkling with delight.

"Um, maybe because there isn't such a thing as a ham tree," Freddie said, being the logical and the oh-so brilliant one he claimed to be. Honestly, I find it very un-imaginative and quite annoying.

"Ah, not yet, but maybe some day," I said, gazing off into no where, my imagination running wild.

"You are strange."

"Maybe so, but at least I can dream. Unlike you." I poked him in the chest to end my statement.

"Who said I don't dream?"

"Said it?! Who has to say it?! Your actions speak for yourself."

"Oh, and what kind of actions are those?" he asked me, raising his eyebrows.

"Well…" I started, furrowing my eyebrows, thinking. "There was that time where I licked the swing set. I told you, you could do it with me. But no, you had to say that it would be un-sanitary and bad for you _and _me. You can never do anything exciting or daring or at least something that's at least a little imaginative."

I studied him carefully, a flicker of confusion and hurt passing through his eyes, but it quickly faded away. I could tell an insult was forming on his lips, but I was too lazy to stop him.

"I agreed into teaching you how to dance. That's got to be a little daring," he retorted, a smirk fully displayed on his face.

I smiled mischievously, crawling over his body, and placed my lips next to his ear. "Hardly," I whispered, making sure my breath tickled his neck hairs. I could feel him tense up from under me and I felt smug. Freddie Benson sure didn't like it when I messed with him and I was having a little fun making his insides twist. No, I didn't like him! I was doing this for my own enjoyment, just to see the poor dork squirm. I slowly moved away, trying to control my twitching lips. I gazed into his deep brown eyes. They were glazed over with confusion, fright, and, what scared me most, lust. When I saw that I nearly jumped out of my skin, but instead just rolled off his body to lie next to him.

"So, Benson, what are we doing today?" I decided to ask. I didn't have anything else to do and I was already here with him so I thought, why not?

"Wait a minute...you're implying that we, you and I, hang out today?" I rolled my eyes. He could be such a nub.

"Don't get all excited it's just I don't have anything else to do today, 'kay?" I said, turning my head to look at him. He was smirking. I glared at him.

"Whatever you say."

"It's true, I don't have anything to do!"

"Why don't you go to Carly's?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Carly said she had to take Spencer to the doctor's because his penis caught on fire," I replied nonchalantly.

"His what?!" he screamed in disbelief.

"Penis," I repeated.

"How did that even happen?!"

"I really don't know. Carly told me he was just going to the bathroom, minding his own business, and then, _VWOOM,_ caught on fire."

"Oh my God," Freddie said in pure shock.

"I know," I agreed. "So what are we doing today?"

"I don't know."

"Uh, you are so boring. You never do anything fun. What do you do? Just take tic baths and play with your superty duperity camcorder?"

"No!" he retorted, but still looked side to side, as if he was wondering how I knew that. What a dork.

"Whatever. I'm bored. Let's go to the iCarly studio," I said, standing up on the mattress and leaping off his bed, a loud thunk sounding once I landed.

"Be quiet, Sam, my mom's still asleep!"

"Oh, right, I forgot she might give you another tic bath if she finds you sleeping with a woman," I quipped, waggling my eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes and let out and aggravated grunt, but his face couldn't hide the color crimson that was creeping up to his cheeks. Freddie could get so embarrassed when I said sexual comments like that.

"Come on, Fredhead!" I shouted when I noticed he still hadn't gotten his lazy butt out of bed. He slowly heaved his body out of bed and we both tip-toed out of his apartment, me grabbing a slice of ham on the way out.

"How are we going to get in there since Carly's not…" But before Frederly could finish his sentence I had already picked the lock and was making my way to the Shay's fridge.

I stuck my head inside, my eyes searching for a bucket of fried chicken, but they failed to find any. My eyes started scanning inside the cabinets and found the next best thing. Fat cakes! I tore open the package and stuffed my face with powdery, sugary goodness. It tasted like heaven…if heaven even has a taste.

"Do you always have to eat?"

"Why does it bother you, Benson?" I asked, pieces of marsh mellow flying from my mouth and landing on the counter.

"Uh…actually…yes," Freddie replied, his nose crinkling in disgust as he stared at the spit covered marsh mellow. He was acting like it was the most disturbing and un-pleasant thing he's ever seen. This boy needs to grow up.

"Well, I don't care like always," I said with a quick smirk, polishing of my fat cake by licking my powdered fingers, making sure I had gotten every morsel.

"That's disrespectful!"

"Yeah, like that's any different from any other insult I've thrown your way. Come on, let's go upstairs."

I made my way up the steps two at a time, Freddie trudging behind me. I plopped down in my favorite bean bag chair, red, of course, and dug my hand in between my butt and the couch, retrieving the remote. I was flipping through various channels when Freddichini finally arrived.

"Um, why are we watching TV here? We have a TV at my house, you know," he said from behind me.

"I know, but your place is lame and I definitely don't want to be around that mess of a woman when she wakes up," I replied easily.

I saw Freddie's reflection in the screen, shrugging his shoulders and turning the corner of his mouth upwards. He let out a small sigh, plopping down in the blue bean bag next to me, probably wishing he had a more normal mother. Because, truth be known to the wise, if that woman was psycho wide awake, there was no telling what she'd do when she had just come out of the temporary death appropriately named sleep.

I randomly landed on a movie that was playing called "A Walk to Remember." It was about a bad boy and a good girl falling in love, but the girl ends up dying in the end. Okay, okay, maybe I didn't just _randomly _land on the movie. Actually, I enjoy it very much, if you were wondering, but if you dare make fun of me about it just know that I am highly skilled with the butter sock, my most trusty weapon.

"Why did you pick this movie?" Freddie asked, groaning.

"Oh, shut up. There was nothing else on, okay?"

I felt him stare at me for a good time before turning his big, round cantaloupe head towards the TV. **(A/N: Since Nevel has a big, round melon head, I figured she might think Freddie's head as some other large fruit.)**

"_Would you like to dance?"_ Mandy Moore, aka Jamie, asked Landon.

"_I can't dance,"_ he answered. _You're not the only one, buddy,_ I thought, smirking at the actor behind the screen. I watched them make there way to the dance floor, which ended up with Landon stepping on the poor girl's foot.

"I'm just as pathetic as him, I guess," I muttered to myself.

"What do you mean?" Apparently, I didn't mutter to myself quiet enough.

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing, nub."

"Tell me!"

"Nah, it's dumb."

"Say it!"

"Okay," I said, giving in, which is something Puckett's rarely do, "I was just going to say I can't…slow dance. There, you happy?" **(A/N: Hmm, dialogue vaguely remind of you of anything? XD)**

"You can't slow dance?" he asked as if I hadn't just _said _that.

"No, I can't, and if you tell anyone that I swear on your mother's life that…"

"It's okay, Sam, I won't. I don't care."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and if you want me to teach you, I can."

"Are you for freakin' real?!" I almost screamed, jumping up from my seat, flinging my hands towards the ceiling, my smile wide and goofy.

"Yes, as long as you don't do that," Freddie replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Teach me now!" I demanded.

"Pushy aren't we, Princess Puckett?" he said grinning his Benson grin. God, I adored that grin.

"I will be whatever I want until you get yourself off your lazy butt and teach mama how to dance," I said, the corners of my lips twitching.

He let out an aggravated groan and pushed his body off the bean bag and dragged it over to where I was standing by the door.

"Okay, just so you know, we're slow dancing," he explained as if I were a five year old. "Pressed together," he said, pressing his hands together.

"I know that, dork, I'm not special ED."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hands. "Okay, now move your foot to the side as I move mine to the side, like we're swaying." I did as I was told, shifting my feet from side to side.

"Okay, good, now we just go in a circle together." We slowly danced our way through the small, imaginary circle.

"I'm doing it!" I squealed excitedly. "Hey, you're a pretty good teacher, you know, for a dork," I commented, smirking up at him, gazing into his deep, brown eyes. God, why did they have to be so brown…and deep?!

"Eh, you're not so bad yourself."

I felt my stomach start to twist. Why was it twisting? I never feel like this unless I haven't eaten for a good few hours, but I just had a slice of ham and a package of fat cakes. He pulled me closer to him, making us, uh, you know…_pressed together_. That made my stomach tighten even more. Okay, what was going on? Was I ill? I knew licking all those swing sets would do something terribly wrong to my stomach.

But as I obliviously laid my head on his shoulder, with no music playing in the background, just the slight murmuring of the people speaking through the TV speakers, something felt oddly…right. My eyes fluttered shut (which was odd for me since I never let my eyes "flutter") and let out a contented sigh. It didn't feel awkward or weird or anything like that. It felt…oh, dare I say it…perfect.

I heard a shrill scream and loud "thunk" come from the door, pulling us both out from our own little world. I spun around; punching what was ever near me purely out of fright. The person let out a girlish scream, me looking up to find the owner of the scream was none other than dear old Spencer. First I glanced to my left to see Carly wearing a horrified expression on her face and then my eyes traveled down to where Spencer's hands were holding. Unfortunately for him, I had hit him right where a guy does not want get hit. More unfortunately for him, that place was also the same place that had caught on fire.

"Ooh, sorry, Spence," I apologized.

"No, prob, kiddo," he managed to squeak out.

There was one thing I knew at that moment and that was if Spencer ever got married he better marry a woman who doesn't care if her husband is only half a man.

**A/N: Hello, you beautiful readers, you! Yes, I said, beautiful…because I know that I have not updated in a looooong time and if I didn't butter you up somehow I'm pretty sure you guys would throw stones at me. I haven't updated in a while partially because school just started…the other reason I haven't is because I've sort of had writer's block.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know there wasn't a lot of Seddie, but I'll try to get some in here soon.**

**Okay, I am really sorry for my sick sense of humor about Spencer, but I just thought of it and I was like "Hee…lol."**

**Also I am sorry for the most random humor possible in this story and that is 'beneath the ham tree.' My friends and I can be so random and my friend was saying that line from the song and I was like, "Why does it have to be beneath the mango tree?! Why can't it be beneath the grapefruit tree?! Do you got a problem with all the other fruits?!"**

**So I was thinking of that and I thought of Sam and how she adores ham and I was like, "Ha, that might be funny if she thought of that." Because I could totally see Sam saying that because 1: She loves ham and 2: She can be very random, like me.**

**I also would like to thank Rae Girl for the idea of Carly and Spencer walking in on them dancing! Anyway, that's all for now…PEACE!**


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